


dog days are over

by discountghost



Series: somewhere, in the belly of the beast [1]
Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, Handlers is a better word for what they do, M/M, Magic, Summer, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Hunters, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: Hangyul had been given a wide variety of options when it came to choosing a summer job, but he also can’t be picky about his choices. Not when this was the last one. Not when this was the one he felt his father pressured him into taking. In fact, he’d even gone on a whole spiel about howSacrificewas a family tradition.Or: Hangyul gets a summer job he's not sure he really wants.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Lee Hangyul
Series: somewhere, in the belly of the beast [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960513
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: SUMMER BLISS: A X1 Ficfest: Round 1





	dog days are over

He wasn’t sure what he was doing here.

Hangyul had been given a wide variety of options when it came to choosing a summer job, but he also can’t be picky about his choices. Not when this was the last one. Not when this was the one he felt his father pressured him into taking. In fact, he’d even gone on a whole spiel about how _Sacrifice_ was a family tradition. But it wasn’t like Hangyul was some wandering teen; he was edging his way up to twenty-three, and it felt like he was going nowhere. It didn’t help that he was drenched in sweat from walking his way up to the shop. 

He thought that a mountain store was something of a rustic phrase that didn’t match up to the reality. In this case, it overstepped the idea he had in mind. The stairs had been killer; his legs ached as he stood there in front of the store, nestled into the rock. He dropped his bag as he took in the wooden frame of the store. Paper with words he couldn’t make out because of how smudged they were had been slapped onto the windows. Some looked like they’d been pasted over. Various newspaper clippings had been stuck to the walls with tack and flapped in the barely-there breeze.

He was lifting his hand to knock on the door when it swung open and out popped a person. Not unexpected, but everything about him screamed less than conventional. The man practically glimmered in the sun, a collection of jewels in his ears, around his neck and fingers. His hair was wildly settled atop his head in faint purple tones and Hangyul thought he might have spotted a shaved part of his head on the side. Large round glasses slid down his nose as he stepped forward and right into Hangyul's face. He seemed just as surprised by Hangyul being there as he was of the other.

The man stepped back, took him in. Then, "Oh."

Hangyul blinked, unsure of how to respond. The man shut the door, and the whole storefront rattled. He watched the man lock it up with a growing sense of dread that he might be in the wrong place. Or worse, he _was_ in the right place and that this person was the owner. That, them, in all their fuschia-colored absurdity, would be his boss for the summer. He swallowed. The man turned on him again, less surprised this time.

"You must be Hangyul. Follow me." His smile was easy, good-natured. His tone carried something of a laugh to it. But he was also moving fast and Hangyul would need to catch up. He reached for his bag and hurried after him as he went down the same stairs that Hangyul had just walked up. The chains on his glasses, beaded with what looked like pearls and little gems, swung as he moved. The man glanced back at him only to see if he was keeping up before he started talking again. "I'm on my way to a job so you caught me at a good time. First day on the job and it's already getting exciting, huh?" His lips spread out in a grin. "Big one, but you'll be fine. Just stay behind me."

They tromped down the stairs with haste. Hangyul puffed out a breath as they reached the bottom. No need to work out this evening; he'd already done that by carrying his luggage up and down the stairs. A car he'd noticed before rumbled to life as the man reached into it, popped the trunk. It had to be old, and imported at that. Something out of a movie he might have seen when he was bored. The trunk floated up and he was relieved of the burden of his bags. He caught a glimpse of something metallic at the bottom of the trunk. Some nestled to the side. He didn't get a chance to look too hard at it before the trunk was shut and he was being ushered into the passenger seat. The wind whipped the other's already wild hair around as they ripped down the street and Hangyul's search for the seatbelt was probably more frantic than it ought to have been.

By the time they reached their destination, Hangyul had wished that he'd taken the job at the ice cream shop. Maybe then he would have been with Eunsang and they could have fucked around like they usually did. And he wouldn't be terrified for his life with just getting into a car. The other hadn't done much talking on the way in. No details had been shared as to what this job was exactly. He was going in blind.

"So...what exactly are we doing?"

The man had walked around to the trunk, shoved Hangyul's stuff aside. He jerked back as the other pulled out what looked like a shotgun. Hangyul had never been good with guns; just knew he didn't like them and that this one was probably illegal. Between his lips were two shells. He used one hand to push his glasses back up his nose.

"Your father didn't tell you?"

"No." He shook his head, backed up a little because then, then the man was loading the gun.

"Oh, well. In that case." He handed the shotgun to Hangyul who, to his credit, held the weapon gingerly. "We're..." He waved his hands around a little too wildly for someone now holding a knife the size of Hangyul's arm. "Exterminators. Sorta? There's a problem in this house, and we get paid to fix it." He tucked a gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Just...they're different from the usual problems."

"What insect needs a gun to get rid of it?"

"The kind that's too big for its own good." The man flashed him a grin as he took yet another set of steps. The stone walls of the house they headed to loomed overhead. He was careful to point his assigned weapon away from either of them.

Hangyul let out another huff as they reached the top of the steps. He was, for lack of better words, following a mad man. It was the only conclusion he could come to. The other's jeans sat snug on his waist, hugged his legs neatly where his shirt was a touch too big. Slid off his shoulders slightly. The man wiped at sweat on his brow, but was otherwise unaffected by the sun bearing down on them.

A woman rushed out of the house. It rose high and might like a stone fortress. But also made him think of his modern architecture teacher and how much the man would have loved the place. Windows on windows carved into rock and balanced carefully on a forcefully flat surface. At the very least, stepping into its shadow provided them with ample shade. The woman resembled her house in that she looked just as sturdy. Topped off with supple flesh to fit her wider frame. Arms wrapped around his new boss and the man consoled her easily. Her skin was red with exertion and sweat made her hair cling to her forehead. It forced the harsh bob to stick to whatever it could, caught in the neckline of her shirt, even. Hangyul glanced away as she pulled back from his employer.

"You came just in time." She was sobbing. Tears ran thick down her cheeks as she looked down at the man. She was slightly taller, only by the few inches her heels allowed her. She didn't seem to notice Hangyul, standing awkwardly to the side with a gun in his hands he didn't know how to use. The man hushed her, took a moment to calm her down with a smile that made _him_ feel calm despite the roiling confusion. Then the man was speed walking toward the house again with him and the woman staring after him. He thought there might have been some differences in _how_ they stared after the man.

"Come on, kid!"

Hangyul scurried forward after him. The house, inside, was as impressive as it was outside. The detailing inside was mostly wood. Natural elements that came together nicely with chic alignments and pieces. But, the wood flooring was marred with scratch marks. Long marks that cut deep into the wood paneling on the walls, too. Cut deep into the grain. Hangyul glanced forward at the man, though his gaze ventured back to the marks. In a rock house with a gun he didn't know how to use and marks from something on the floor.

Ahead of him, he could hear the man as he breathed a drawn-out, “Oh, boy.”

He didn’t see what prompted the reaction until he rounded a corner, stopped short of bumping into his new boss. The man scoffed in the face of the creature that he’d come upon. Though — Hangyul wasn’t really sure what it was he was looking at. Just that it instilled in him a sense of _get the fuck out of here_. 

Truthfully, it looked like no more than an oversized dog. A dog much too big to be of a normal breed, and while this might have been calming to think about for a second, it lost its appeal easily. The creature rocked unsteadily like it wasn’t built to fit right atop its four legs.

Like, maybe, it might need _more_ than that. He didn't quite want to think about that so much, but -- what could he do at this point? It's head was big, bigger than its body and he might have thought of it like a bobblehead if it didn't turn wild eyes onto him and the man. The same man that had put his gun away and raised his hands as he approached the thing.

The creature turned fully as the man stepped up, maybe too close, and Hangyul wanted more than anything to run. To absolutely _bolt._ The head that seemed too big was split in two cleanly, teeth lining where the pink of flesh showed. Heavy paws pressed flat into the floor as it turned some more. Its tongue lolled out, dripped spit onto the ground.

"Uh, what...is that?"

The man tipped his head to the side and the creature did the same. Regarded him with one eye out of a dozen. The easy pant that filled the room was far too much like a dog for his liking.

"Well. It, uh. It _was_ a dog, but the friendly madame in the garden has a penchant for making nice with the fair folk." He shrugged. "She got this good boy for her trouble, but she's not too good at training him."

"That doesn't." Seungwoo swallowed. "That doesn't answer my question."

"There...isn't really a name for it." The man inched closer, and the creature sniffed at him readily. Just the slightest bit of movement shook the ground. "It just. Is."

Hangyul let out what was probably supposed to be a sound of affirmation that came out as a whimper. The creature -- maybe he _could_ just call it a dog -- turned his way. Something in it rumbled and he tried not to look at the abyss of its maw to see the flesh there make the sound he heard.

"It's perfectly harmless, kid." He flashed Hangyul a smile as he stepped right up and pat the creature on its head. The rumble turned to a purr. "Just -- easily excitable. We gotta get it to calm down."

The man glanced down at the scrap of what must have been the collar. It had, effectively, been shredded in the process of whatever transformation the dog had gone through. Its tail wagged, thumped against the wall, and any furniture unfortunate enough to be in the way at that point.

"The thing with things like this is that." He groaned, crouched down. The stance itself shouldn't have been difficult, but his way his leg stuck out was a tell. Something wrong. "They need a name, though. Like a regular dog does."

"You said it doesn't have a name."

"The name for what it _is_ doesn't exist, but there is a name for _it._ "

Hangyul's brows furrowed at this. On the surface, the words made little sense. And, none of this was supposed to be possible, after all. Not...whatever this thing was. This was supposed to be a normal summer job, after all.

“Or well, for _him.”_ He watched, in muted horror, as the man scratched at the underside of the creature’s jaw. It placated the creature enough for him to pull the mangled collar off. A little metal name tag hung from the strip of fabric. He turned it over in his fingers, examined it for information like it wouldn't just be staring him in the face. But, maybe this was just another thing that was more than met the eye. His expression is mostly gentle. There was a light of recognition, then something like mischief.

Hangyul tried not to think about how the look on the man's face made his skin warm up.

"Puck? Should've known."

The creature made what he assumed was supposed to be a yip mixed with a bark, rolled up in a deep wet grumble. The wagging got worse. If things could get weirder, he watched the creature's head...shrink. That was the only word he could use to describe what he was seeing. It trembled and shook like it'd been doused in water. The man backed up to give it space, but Hangyul didn't think that was what it needed. If it needed anything.

The crunch of flesh and bone filled the room as a slosh of something liquidy accompanied it. He didn't want to think about what that was, but soon he was staring at a normal dog. A yappy, happy tri-colored corgi that bounced on stubby little legs. His fingers twitched as he thought about the rifle in his hand. It was a smaller target, but maybe there was a chance it would turn into...whatever it had been before.

"None of that." The rifle was snatched out of his hand as if the thought had been plucked from his mind. The corgi -- Puck -- tipped its head to the side as it pattered after the man to the front of the house. "If you shoot him, we don't get paid." The yip Puck let out was just shy of the same rumbly, watery growl he'd heard before.

Outside, the woman awaited them. It seemed like he'd stepped out into some sort of weird unreality. The too-brightness of the sun had him blinking his eyes to get them to adjust. They watered a bit. But he wouldn't mention that. He swiped quickly at his eyes as he stepped closer to the man and the woman to hear what was being said.

"...kindly for always getting here so quickly."

"You're not that far out of the way."

His smile was soothing, yet again. He felt himself lean toward the man, even if he hadn't been addressing him directly. Almost like a pull. He wasn't _blind._ He was aware that the man was attractive and that could be part of it, but he was more so concerned about the fact that he'd just handled some weird mythical - fairy? - creature. A big part of him wanted to get back in the car, grab his stuff and go _home._ At least, until the woman produced what looked like literal gold. The man's smile turned crooked and he planted a fat, audible kiss on the woman's check.

"Thank you for choosing the Handlers of _Sacrifice,_ for your supernatural needs." There might have been a drawl to his words.

Supernatual seemed like the right word. Outside of the natural was something that he'd just witnessed with his own eyes. He glanced over the man as he drove, hummed a little tune while he was at he. He supposed his new boss was in a good mood. Maybe because he'd just gotten a fat payout in the form of _gold._ What was the market value for gold again?

Hangyul would admit that that _wasn't_ a selfless thought. He could use the exchanged money for, well, a lot of things. His brows furrowed as they halted at the foot of the hill. The lurch of the stop jostled him out his thoughts of financial freedom for a foreseeable future.

"The gold. Uh--"

"You'll get your cut when I convert this into cash."

His brow twitched, but he didn't really want to ask that.

"Do people always pay you in gold?"

"Faery gold, and no. Most just have regular money, but like I said, that wonderful _madame_ is in nice with the Fae, so they give her a bit of a, uh, allowance. If you will."

The car rocked a bit as he shut the door, rounded to the trunk yet again. He supposed he should get out of the car, too, but it was kind of still hitting him hard. Fae. Faery dog things. Faery _gold._ These were things that existed in books, stories. His door was opened for him and his bags dropped into his lap.

"You'll get over the initial shock."

He wasn't sure when he'd started trailing the man again, but he was and he was reminded of how much he _hated_ walking up these stairs the first time. He was huffing again once he'd made his way up them. The man unlocked the door with ease, slid it open and turned back to beckon him in. He store wore the same wild look in his eyes as when he first saw him only, what, an hour ago? Maybe even less than that.

"Your father really didn't tell you anything?"

Hangyul mutely shook his head, fingers tight on his luggage. No, he'd really been told nothing. Just a summer job. Just a family tradition. The shop they stepped into look a lot bigger than he'd initially thought. Lined with shelves that were filled to the brim. The space to walk between them was small enough that he had to turn sideways to wedge himself between them. The man moved quick. Strides that picked easily through the mess of the chaos of the shop. Hangyul stumbled a few times himself, too busy gawking at some of the items. There were indiscernable shapes that were wrapped in cloth, script of some sort written over it. There were trinkets, too, that dangled from the ceiling. They looked like bells he'd seen at temples when he went with his grandparents. They swung just a bit as he walked under them. The floors themselves sort of shook as he walked over the boards and he suspected that they had to be holding quite a bit of weight up. He wouldn't be surprised if something just so happened make it collapse.

He jumped though, as something weaved between the spaces in the shelves. A dark form that slinked about in the relatively dim light of the shop. He wasn't sure about the light source, but it had to be with somewhere above them. His attention turned back to the man, who was much farther ahead than he'd thought possible in so narrow a space.

"Uhm, so this job." Hangyul winced as his bag bumped into one shelf, set it to rocking. He hated to imagine what would spill out if it toppled, waited for it to teeter too far to one side or the other. "You told me a little about it. And that my parents know about it. But do they, uh, _know about_ know about?"

"You mean the fact that we keep an eye on the -- let's say fantastical -- fantastical proceedings of the area?" Hangyul blinked and the man took it as an answer. "Yes, they do. Your dad had his summer job here. And his before him. Just like mine, though that was some time ago." The man sucked in a breath through his teeth, brows raised as he seemed to consider the stretch of years himself.

"Wait, how _old_ are you?"

The man, for his part, looked relatively offended. Blinked, lips dropped open. Almost placed a hand on his chest for good measure, but maybe he thought better of it. "I'm a perfectly young twenty-something. Give or take a decade." He waved his hand around, finger pointed to the ceiling as he shrugged. "Shop tends to blur time when you're here too long."

He didn't like the sound of that. "I don't like the sound of that."

"You get used to it." The man's chuckle seemed to fill the gaps in the shop and he could have sworn he'd seen the dark figure lurking beneath a table as the man leaned against it. "But, I'll try to make sure you don't lose too much time. Don't want you missing out on a whole summer. No one likes that."

"Is there any way I can just...go home?"

"No can do." The man clicked his tongue, frowned. "You've already been exposed." He tipped his head toward the entrance. "Mercy's been tailing you since before you came here."

"I -- huh?"

As if summoned, the figure reappeared. A cat hopped up on the table. A perfectly normal black cat that rumbled out a soft purr as the man stroked between its ears. Perfectly normal until twins tails twined around it.

"Mercy." He said it like a greeting and the cat _bowed_ in Hangyul's direction.

A voice that definitely didn't belong in a cat's mouth chirped out an even, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He blinked, because he wasn't sure what to do. Because this was just another odd thing to add to the list of odd things he'd seen today. Because this might have been tamer than the faery dog thing he'd seen before. "What do I call you?"

"Me?" The man gestured to himself. He glanced around as if there could be anyone else in the room and for a moment, Hangyul worried that there just might be. "You can call me Seungwoo."

He bowed without thinking, more out of habit than anything else and repeated the name because he wanted to commit to memory the person that would carry this fever dream of a day. He blinked again, hoped Mercy would disappear from the table but the cat remained. Still purred in the same spot. His brain didn't think any of this was real and he really was inclined to believe that it was _right._ But if this was a dream than he could always just wake up from it and be back in his room with sweat sticking to his skin because he forgot to turn the air conditioner on in the evening when the room was cool.

He turned around in a circle, looked back at where he came from and that view was definitely longer than he would have thought. Hangyul supposed this was a trick of the mind, too. An endless hallway of assorted occult items. He turned back to his boss and uttered out a simple, "Huh."

Seungwoo pushed off from the table, seemed to remember something in the midst of the action. His eyes lit up, dimmed, then sparked anew as he stepped up to Hangyul. There was, what, a few centimeters in difference for their heights? In here, though, surrounded by things he didn't understand, he felt smaller. Seungwoo placed his hands on the other's shoulders, pat them. He wasn't sure if the act was supposed to be reassuring.

"There's. Hm." He mulled over his words, brows furrowed. "There's someone you'll meet. In here. I can't be near you when you do, or Mercy for that matter, but it's best that you relax. She's won't hurt you; that's never her intentions. But it's tradition that you meet her."

"Tradition?" He wanted to say that technically this _wasn't_ his family and that this wasn't his tradition, but the words soured and rotted on his tongue. He hadn't thought that way in a long time and even if he voiced it, he was sure to be met with the same thoughts that he answered himself with.

They were not his blood, but they were his _family._ He was part of them, had been since the minute they'd laid eyes on him. If he wasn't on the side of terrified, he might have teared up at the thought.

"Yeah. Uh. Sorta like an initiation? Hazing?"

He, again, didn't like the sound of that. "I don't like the sound of that."

Seungwoo chuckled. "Don't worry. Like I said, she won't hurt you. If she even so much as tries, it breaks the deal she's had with our families for generations and sends her to the endless pits of hell. Aside from that, I think she's kinda grown soft on us anyways."

Hangyul let out for the second time that day a sound that was probably meant to be affirmation but came out as a whimper.

He'd only been given that warning before he was metaphorically shoved to the wolves. Literally speaking, Seungwoo had stated he would take Hangyul's stuff to his room and Mercy would wait for him at a safe distance. He didn't really ask _why_ Mercy couldn't be near, but he wasn't that fond of the demon cat thing yet and kind of liked the idea of it keeping away. Just not that it did because he would be facing something potentially worse than it.

And aside from that, who named a cat (when all cats were assholes) Mercy?

Hangyul steeled himself as he waited for the creature to descend on him. He got that Seungwoo had said it -- she -- wouldn't hurt him, but it didn't stop his brain from cooking up the idea that she would. That she'd drop down on him like a spider and cleave flesh from bone. Maybe come from behind and bite deep into his neck to drink his blood.

Neither of those things happen, but when he opened his eyes after attempting to center himself, she was there. Sat before him on the table. She watched him a face that had no eyes. Where they should have been was covered in brambles and thorns that merged to form horns that curved upward and back toward her skull. Tendrils of dirty silver hair fell around her face in what he could only describe as a harsh bob. It matched her skin. Drained of color and veined with the same fuschia hue his boss wore. Her chin rested over spindly fingers that ended in what looked like fingertips made of coral.

She looked, for lack of a better assessment, young. No older than he, even. But Seungwoo had already said the shop messed with time and she could be older than time itself for all he cared. He took a step back and she rocked forward on the balls of her feet. Not feet. Paws, not unlike that of a feline. She teetered on the edge of the table as a cape of leather -- god, he hoped it wasn't like, skin he was looking at and not realizing -- dotted with little purple blossoms. Berries dropped down as she moved, rolled over the floor. When she stepped down, her paws crushed them underfoot. She hunched forward, tipped her head to the side. A bovine tail raised from a slit in the cape. But it all turned. Hardened into something he couldn't name until, just like her fingers, that too was made of coral.

Where Seungwoo had been centimeters, he felt like had meters on him. Even hunched over. Her tail flicked, almost impatiently.

"Well, aren't you going to ask?" There was impatience.

"Ask what?"

"My name!" Laughter rang out but it didn't hold much mirth as she paced to one side. "I swear, you lot get more clueless as the years go by."

"Uh." He wasn't really sure how to answer that. He also wasn't really sure where to look because she was decidedly, well, _bare._ His gaze drifted up to the ceiling, then the side of the room she hadn't paced to. "What is your, uh, name?"

"Great Oberon, you're worse than that dunce." It came out like a coo, but Hangyul scrunched his nose up no less. "You've the great pleasure of speaking to the one and only -- first of her name --"

His ears rang. No, they felt like someone had raked nails over a chalkboard at one side and blew an airhorn near the other. Like they'd held his head between a clamp and put it to the tightest setting. His eyes watered as he attempted to make out what she was saying through the pain, until he realized _that was her name._ He glanced up to her, eyes red as he dropped to his knees. Seungwoo had said he wouldn't hurt her.

"Oh, right. I'm so sorry, little dove." Her fingers were cool where they met his skin. "You don't have the protections yet. I shall give them to you henceforth, but to ease your troubled mind, you may call me Xyensha."

"Sha-sha?" The nickname popped into his head without warning and the other threw back her head in a roar of laughter. It echoed back to them.

"Sha-sha! How rhythmic! How sweet! How _pure!_ "

He wasn't sure what to say to that, but he also couldn't really form a sentence in his own head with the way it rang. The ringing subsided as she tipped glowing horns toward his forehead. Contact was painful, maybe worse than the ringing. They burned hot against his skin. He felt, beneath even that, the pang of something chipping at his bones. His skin, his skull. Something that carved away at the very fiber of his being and by the time it was over, he clutched at Xyensha like a mewling child and his stomach churned. Seungwoo had said she couldn't hurt him.

So what the _fuck_ was that?

"Magic protections, my sweet." She answered the question like she'd heard him breathe it into the air. Maybe he did. He still wasn't thinking straight. "You need it for the work you need to do."

Maybe he was imagining it, but he could have sworn there was a dip in her voice. He could have also sworn that she had three heads when he looked up at her, but that was beside the point. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to breathe right and he wrenched his eyes shut to keep the nausea at bay. He should probably be worried some creature that wasn't human was taking a liking enough to him that she was using terms of affection. He should probably be worried that he'd gone through the worse pain of his life and he'd managed to break both his legs before. One after the other, in quick succession, because he'd been ten and stupid and trying to save a cat from a tree even though he hated cicadas and they were everywhere on the branches. He sucked in a breath. She smelled like the forest and the sludge of a swamp and he cracked open an eye. There was the faintest scent of lavender wrapped up in there when he sniffed again.

"My -- are you scenting me? Or do you wish to cry?"

The word was strained, but: "Cry."

Another laugh, but less happy. Empty. "I must tell you, little dove. You'll have more reasons to cry later on."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This work can be unkind. Unforgiving. You will do things that taint that pure little soul of yours, but not much. Just enough that you'll feel it burn in every part of you with every breath you take and every move you make. Maybe until your last." She paused, sighed. Maybe, under those horn things, she had eyes where she blinked. Batted tears away with her eyelashes. "You're an honest boy and I will be honest with you in return. This tradition, this place. It is aptly named. Sacrifice is important, especially in maintaining the fickle balance of the Natural versus the preternatural." His brows furrowed at that word. "Mystical, child." She mashed her lips together and her voice came out rumbly, discontent. "It's only a matter of what and how much you sacrifice."

Then, as if she had not just essentially given him an ill omen, she set him upright. A knock sounded at the door and she let out another sigh. Her footprints were visible even as she hopped over the shelves, berries left behind in her wake. Lingered like her voice.

"Make sure you choose wise in what you offer, little dove."

Hangyul blinked. He wanted to sit down. Lay down. Maybe wake up from this dream. But he knew, at this point, that there wasn't a dream to wake up from. A hand clapped down on his shoulder and when he looked, Seungwoo offered him the same smile he had when they'd met earlier in the day. It felt, just a little, like things might be relatively bearable if the other were around. At least, until Mercy wound her way through his legs.

"Christ, Mercy!"

Maybe he had a long summer ahead of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
